Treacle Tart

and an unoriginal passion

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I am not unique.

I love Harry Potter.

I’ve loved Harry Potter since I first cracked the spine of The Sorcerer’s Stone. Most of my friends weren’t allowed to read Harry Potter. But I had the cool mom.

She tried for a while to not let me read it simply because none of the other kids we knew were allowed. The number of times she and I got chewed out by one of the other parents because I’d opened my big fat mouth and told one of their kids about “Pirates of the Caribbean” (or some other fun and harmless thing they found damning) was getting into the dozens.